„I say again- Hassan has American missiles."

Ghost's voice echoed in her head for minutes after they discovered the missiles the AQs were protecting. It just didn't make sense in her mind – and being American, she kind of felt betrayed, there was a storm inside her head. How did Iran get their hands on this? How come the whole building they were hiding the missiles in, wasn't on their intel?

She had too many questions and no answers.

And Rora hated being left in the dark.

With her natural distaste for living and the numerous acts of being considered a burden, her mood was off, to say the least. With a permanent scowl on her face, she tapped her foot impatiently at the hard ground, waiting for the helicopter to land and get them out of there.

Her boots clinking against the metal flooring, she strolled on the heli, her rifle dangling off her shoulder, hitting against her hip with every step she took. It was a familiar feeling, almost comforting in a way – the dull pain in her shoulder, the sweat and dust tinting her neck and face, the adrenaline still pumping in her veins, all of those feelings she was friends with. Finishing up a mission always filled her with joy and calmness, except this one.

Mostly because they didn't finish it.

They missed Hassan, found no trace of him, only found some missiles that indicated some bigger problem than they originally thought, and she wanted nothing more than that bastard in front of them, kicking the shit out of him.

°•○●⸸●○•°

After clearing the second deck, they came across an empty room, nothing but some paper with nonsense written over it and a random jacket thrown on the back of a chair.

„Look," Soap gestured for them to come and look at what he found. Rora made sure to put more than enough space between her and the lieutenant. „Hassan's uniform. So he was here."

„Sneaky little shit got away," Rora hissed, a scowl twisting her beautiful features.

„Lost him when we secured the crash site," Ghost pointed out, his voice calm but in his undertones there hid some disappointment.

Soap turned around, facing Ghost, Rora looking at him at the same time. Her eyes met with Soap's for a moment, before they went back to Ghost's face, trying to read any emotion from him.

Of course, it was impossible.

„Are you sayin' we shouldn't have helped?" MacTavish asked, a hint of accusation deepening his voice.

That thought appeared in her mind, too. That maybe, if they were to ambush the third building before securing the crash site, maybe they were able to catch Hassan in time. But that meant leaving men behind, and Rora never ever left anybody behind.

That was the only thing she swore on, even though she wasn't that big of a team player. Nobody gets left behind.

The two men stared at each other for a brief moment, the tension between them thickening with every heartbeat.

„Choices have consequences..." was Ghost's answer, shrugging his shoulder.

By hearing his words, an unknown weight pressed on her shoulders, causing her posture to slump a little bit. She knew there will be consequences, there were always were. In her early life, there were plenty of lessons about that, and it hit a little too close to home.

But before any of them could elaborate on the thought they had, a voice spoke up in the earpiece, breaking the heavy silence that hung over them.

„All Bravo- we got movement out here."

„On the way..."

°•○●⸸●○•°

Just as she was ready to take her place on the bench, her muscles craved some rest after all the straining, a voice behind her disturbed her desire for rest.

„Wells!"

She didn't even have to face him to know who it was, a sigh already leaving her lips as she turned around, facing the clearly displeased lieutenant that made his way towards her.

She had to give him that he was menacing. The heavy steps, the tall and muscular build, but the mask – that was the only thing that really threw her off. Rora remembered that she promised him that he could scold her all he wanted if they survive the whole thing, but she hoped that he forgot about that.

Seemingly, he did not.

„You're irresponsible," were his first words to her, stopping only a few steps before her. With the sound of the others chatting and the rotors of the heli, it was a little hard to hear him, but he kept his voice at the perfect level. He didn't need the others to hear all of this.

„Care to elaborate?" Rora asked, quirking one of her eyebrows at him.

She made a lot of shitty decisions, basically, that was her whole life.

Her first one was when she went to seek out her mother, knowing damn well that she was sick. She just didn't expect her to be half dead, a syringe hanging from her arm, and drugs clouding her mind.

The second one was when she fell in love with the worst man she could find. In many aspects, he was a loving boyfriend. In others, he was a criminal, taking her with him down the drain.

The third one being too reckless for her own good, apparently.

„The RPG," his tone shifted a little, getting more impatient by the second. Her carelessness started to piss him off.

A smile appeared on her face upon the mention of that. Was it stupid? Yes. Could she have died out there? Probably. Did she care? No.

Was it badass, though? Definitely.

Upon seeing her smile while he was fuming, only made his temper worse. He was a calm and calculated man, at most times. It was not that easy to throw him off. But he was responsible for a squad now, that squad including her, but with her every action, she reminded him of why he preferred to work alone.

„Sergeant Aurora Wells, codename Scorpion," Price shoved a tan folder in front of him, Ghost's eyes flicking to the folder.

Reaching out his right hand, he flipped it open, eyes scanning over the data hidden in it. At the top corner, there was a picture of one of the most beautiful women he was ever seen: a permanent scowl sharpening her features, like the photographer just threw some profanities at her head before the picture was taken.

Her dark hair and icy blue eyes made the perfect contrast, a mischievous glint captured in her eyes. And there was that one thing that captured his attention the most, besides her eyes – that big scar slitting her face. It reached from the corner of her left mouth to almost her eyes, giving her otherwise beautiful face a cold, menacing look.

For a moment, he wondered how she got it, but not only a second later he decided he didn't care. He was sure she had more like all of them did, and none of it mattered.

„She will be joining Task Force 141," Price continued, his eyes scanning over his mask-covered face, trying to read his thoughts.

„Why?"

„I worked with her before on a few missions. She's good. A little crazy, but good," the Captain leaned back in his chair, some sort of proud expression appearing on his face as he spoke about her. „Most of the time, it won't look like she knows what she's doing, but in the end, she makes it work."

Great, because that's all he needed, some lunatic Amecian girl, risking their mission.

And just as he looked at her, all of his previous thoughts about her seemed to emerge. He had seen her work on the field, and Price was right – she was crazy, running out to the field with an RPG on her shoulder, the probability of killing herself, them or anything else hanging in the air. But she seemed determined enough that maybe, she would not be that much of a pain in the ass to work with.

But then she gave him that smug smirk and his patience started to run out with her.

„If you do that again, I'll throw you out from the fuckin' heli-"

Rora noticed the way his accent thickened as frustration radiated off him, but that just seemed to egg her on, her New Yorkian side mixing with her Jersey blood, craving to know her limits with him.

So she turned to her left, glancing down at the open side of the helicopter, it already floating in the air. The ground was dark and void-like under them, and for a moment, it pulled her down like a vortex, almost hypnotizing her. She liked knowing the fact that if she would take two steps right, she would fall down to her death, and there would be not one thing that could save her.

It was an odd thought, she often had those. Wondering how death would claim her.

And as the thick British accent reached her ears, she was sure that death would come to her in the form of Ghost.

„What are you doing?" he asked, watching her with a confused look in his eyes.

„Checking how high the drop is, see if it's worth it," Rora answered, shrugging her shoulders as she leaned back, fully facing him again.

But maybe that was a mistake.

He tilted his head to the side in a predatory way, taking a step closer to her, already causing her to crane her neck back in order to maintain eye contact. Her smile faded as he towered over her, suddenly realizing that he could, indeed, just throw her out of the chopper, and probably nobody would protest against the idea.

Well, maybe Soap, but she doubted he would go against his lieutenant's words.

And his fucking eyes.

Locking eyes with him caused her mouth to dry out, forcing herself to gulp down the lump in her throat. Her body was ready to take a step back, being intimated by his presence, but her pride was louder than her discomfort, forcing her to stand her ground and straighten her spine despite wanting to hide away from his eyes, which seemed to stare down to her soul.

She failed to realize so far how menacing he was. He could overpower her easily, she saw how easily killing came to him, and the fact that he was her lieutenant just gave him more power to possess over her. She didn't want to admit it, but it scared her.

Knowing that he could destroy her, and there would be nobody to stand up to her.

Almost like he could sense the sudden change in her demeanor, he took two steps back, his hands gripping the side of his vest, his eyes giving her a once over. He noticed the way her shoulders had tensed when he stepped closer, the way her smile faltered.

He noticed the broken look in her eyes, but just for a moment.

„Sit down, Sergeant," he ordered, his tone returning to the calm one he used with his men.

Taken aback by the way he was able to change his whole mood, her mouth fell open, but not one word made it out. She watched as he turned his back to her, walking over to Soap, who watched the interaction between them with a curious look on his face.

Heat crept up to her cheeks, and she did just what he told her to do: sit down. But not because he said so, but because she was exhausted.

°•○●⸸●○•°

With a kick to her feet, she jerked awake, not even remembering when she had dozen off.

„We're back to the base," Ghost answered her silent question as she looked around, taking in her surroundings.

Without any more words, he walked down the ramp, confident steps taking him closer to the base. She saw that she was the last one to leave the heli, so she quickly released her rifle from her arms which she hugged to her chest in her sleep, hurrying after Ghost.

Exhaustion started taking over her mind because she didn't remember making it inside the building, but she was walking down the small hallway, multiple doors passing by either of her sides.

Seemingly, everybody had a room for themselves, but she had no idea where she would be able to rest. Rora stopped in her tracks, not knowing what to do with the situation.

„Wellsy!" a cheery voice greeted. She had to blink a few times to register who did it belong to, as a rather tall man came into her view.

Without the helmet and being in a well-lit hallway, she needed a few moments to recognize Soap, a beaming smile plastered on his face. He looked tired, but the previous frown on his face when they discovered the missiles were gone now, leaving only clear, friendly eyes and a smile.

„Nice mohawk," she spoke up, forcing a smile on her face.

„Nice smile," he complimented back, causing her to roll her eyes. „You seem a little lost."

„Are you trying to flirt with me, Sergeant?" she asked, the playfulness in her tone earning a chuckle from him.

„Maybe," Soap replied, a shy grin taking over the happy smile.

„I eat boys like you for breakfast, Soap," Rora patted him on the shoulder, stepping past him, planning on searching for her room. She needed a rest after all of that happened.

„Damn," he placed a hand over his heart, like she just shot him, turning after her. „Breaking my heart already."

„Go rest, Soap!" she waved behind her shoulder, not even slowing down as she walked down the hallway, a smirk still playing on her lips.

That lasted only a few moments because as soon as she saw Ghost's figure standing further down, her smile seemed to falter.

Just like he sensed her presence, he looked up from the note he held in his hand, making his way toward her. She considered running away, but she was sure he would catch up to her in no time. He had long and strong legs, and she hated running.

„Lieutenant," she nodded in his way as a type of greeting, hoping that he just happened to be having some business from the way she came, but he stopped right in front of her, crushing her hopes like a fucking peanut.

„Sergeant," his eyes met with hers, a chill running down her spine.

In this lighting, he looked so much like Everett, it almost hurt to look at him.

„This is your room," he reached out a hand toward her, handing her the note. Her eyes lingered on the skeleton-printed gloves, hiding away any skin before she took the note. It was a messy handwriting, the number 113 was written on it. „Laswell's order."

„Thanks," Rora uttered out, keeping her eyes trained on the numbers. An awkward silence fell between them, both of them standing at either sides of the hallway, the woman waiting for getting excused for leaving.

Just as she took one step away from him, he spoke up again.

„And, uhm," Ghost looked like it was hard to find the right words, his eyes wandering to the wall next to her before he found her eyes again. „If there's any problem, you report to me. Understood?"

Despite the poorly worded sentence, which would've come off as rude, the undertones of his words took off the edge of it. His tone was softer, almost could be considered as concerned.

It caught her off-guard, but she found herself smiling at him, nonetheless.

„Positive, sir," she saluted to him, not waiting for an answer, she went to find her room.